I don't like books
by pdfish
Summary: Wufei's POV. I don’t like books and I’m sure they don’t like me either,” Duo said, grinning. Why? Read to know. Review please. Thanks a lot!


Disclaimer: I don't owe gundam wing TT and I don't earn any profit from this fic…. However, the story is mine!

Just something I thought of when I was borrowing some books from the library.  
And I spend almost a month on it I have been dividing my time between peace knights and this. Please review! I will appreciate it a lot.  
Okay enough whining

Now with the story…

It was almost midnight. Moonlight filtered in from the curtains. I yawned. I was tired but I knew I had to wait for him to return. The rest of them were on missions. I knew that Maxwell would not mind if I dozed off or something.

But it was not honorable. I promised Winner that I would check Maxwell for injuries after his mission. Maxwell had a bad habit. He hid his injuries whenever he could. Sometimes he did not even tend to it. I knew he did that so as not to worry us. The other pilots including myself did that too. But he was the worst.  
_  
"And Shinigami scores! Yeah!" _

"Duo! Your right arm!"

"Oh, it's okay!"

"No, it's not."

"You are bleeding!"

"How did you get hurt, Maxwell? We are only playing basketball."

"How?"

"Get him to his room now!"

So here I was, waiting for him to return. I continued reading the pre-colony book I had gotten hold off. It was a good book with adventures and humor. I checked the clock again only ten minutes had passed.

I closed the book in irritation. He said he would be back at ten. Sure, there was always room for delays and things. But to be late for two hours? I was about to put down the book when the door opened quietly.

"Finally! Where have you been?" I demanded as I glared at him, taking the chance to see if he had sustained any injuries. Then again, he made it difficult for me to check his well being since he was wearing his usual black priest suit.

"You waiting for me, Wufflers? I am so happy!" Duo grinned as he threw himself onto the couch.

"No! I was not! I am just trying to finish this book," I denied as I pretended to read the book, "well, I'm sure someone like you will never understand the joy of reading."

"Yeah, so what? I don't like books and I'm sure they don't like me either," Duo said, grinning.

Yet, somehow, I could feel that the grin was forced. Something happened on his mission. He seemed upset and tired.

"Well, maybe it is because you don't do them justice so they don't like you?" I said with a hint of sarcasm though I was not sure why I did.

"Well, books are like people's lives, don't you think? Not only biographies, I mean everything. Life's like a story? Do you know how many people would be dying to read a book about our lives? Killing? Piloting?" Duo said, his grin becoming more of a sad smile, "well, you know something? I don't want to have a life that is worth writing. I want to have one which is boring."

I was surprised at his speech. I always thought Maxwell was a clown. I knew he was more than just a childish pilot who always pranks his comrades. But I did not know he could be so deep. Maybe I was wrong about him.

"Well, then no one might want to read about your boring life," I said simply with a smile.

"So what? I don't think I like people intruding in my privacy," Duo retorted with a grin.

"I thought you hate things that are associated with the word "boring"?" I asked again, raising an eyebrow as I closed my book.

"Maybe, or maybe not," Duo said with a wistful smile, "then again, how can we ever be normal?"

"I don't know, Maxwell," I answered quietly.

Maybe Maxwell was not as shallow as I thought. But then again, he was always so cheeky and doing things that irritated me. He was always grinning and joking even during missions. It was like the war did not affect him. He did not take anything seriously and it was always upsetting me.

I hate frivolous people. They were just not serious enough. One needed to respect others even if they were the enemies. But he just yelled and sometimes even sang songs. It was as if all the killing did not get to him. But yet, I knew it did.

Maxwell had nightmares. In fact, all of us did. But then he had it most often. For a while, I actually thought that having nightmares was a weakness. It was actually Maxwell who taught me that having nightmares was never a weakness but strength.

I could still remember the time when he woke me up from one and he had stayed and talked to me. We were on a mission together, living at the countryside, somewhere near a military base. The place reminded me of L5 and that very night, I saw Meiran dying in my arms again.  
_  
"It's all right, Wufei. You can cry if you want. No one will laugh at you," _

"No… crying is for the weak. I am not weak..."

"You are not. You are one of the strongest people I have met."

"I am weak! I am crying and I have nightmares!"

"So what? Who says having nightmares is a weakness? I say it's a strength!"

"You know nothing, Maxwell!"

"Wufei? Are you saying I am weak?"

"No! You might be loud, rude, childish, cheeky, noisy and so many things but you are not weak."

"Why? You know I have a lot of nightmares."

"But…"

"Wufei, I know you like justice and everything. Everything in your world is seen through weak and strong."

"But that's true. The strong survives but the weak dies, Maxwell. This is the way of life. From nature to human beings."

"So is that the reason you fight with OZ? Isn't OZ strong while we are weak?"

"No. we are stronger than OZ."

"Your world might be all around strong and weak but the strong can also protect the weak and make the weak strong, Wufei."

"But so what? It just means that everyone can be strong."

"No that's not my point. The point is that though it seems that having nightmares is weak. You can be stronger with them."

"So what you mean is that nightmares are good?"

"Of course not! Who wants nightmares? What I mean is that you should be tougher and get over your nightmare. When you have achieved that, doesn't that mean that you are stronger?"

After that talk with Maxwell, somehow, my nightmares became more bearable. I did not think them of failures but as strengths as I overcame each of them.

Though I would deny under torture, Maxwell was truly a great friend. He was brilliant and had a very different view of things. He was able to live, in his words, to the fullest. Even if it meant in the midst of the war. I hate to admit but he was able to get what he wants once he makes up his mind.

"Wufflers?" Maxwell's voice broke my thoughts.

I turned my attention back to him. He had seated himself at the couch across from me. Somehow, I had tuned him out as he was saying something about us not being normal.

"Let me think, you have not been listening to me and is about to ask me not to call you Wufflers? Right, Wuman?"

"If you know what I am going to say, then stop calling me Wufflers!" I retorted as I opened my book, ignoring Maxwell.

"I really hate books," Maxwell continued, "books tell lies."

That got my attention immediately. I never knew that books tell lies. I mean I know Maxwell hated reading. Well, he made that quite obvious. And he hated lies. "I run, I hide but I never lie" that's his motto. I agreed with him though I did not take it that extreme. It is after all honorable to be honest to people who you considered your comrades or friends.

"Lies?" I asked, keeping the curious tone out of my sentence. It would not do to encourage him. He could go on on a theory for hours if he wanted too. Just like the theory that he does not believe in God but only believe in Shinigami.

"Yes, lies. Book covers might not give you a preview of the story. It is like a mask. Nobody can know the book's true identity unless they read the book," Maxwell explained.

"Mask?" I asked, feeling more curious. How could a book wear a mask? Though I hate to admit, his theories had always intrigued me.

"Mask. Like all of us. Heero has his mission mask. Trowa has his blank mask.  
Quatre has his diplomatic mask and you have your justice mask," he grinned, "and you guys are trying to hide your pain and things from the others."

"Really? Then you hid your pain behind your joker?" I demanded.

He looked surprised, "hey, don't get angry, Wuman! I am just saying. After all, I am just a shallow person right?"

I was not angry with him. I was angry with myself. "Shallow person" wasn't that what I always thought Maxwell was? He was the joker who did not take things seriously. Wasn't that what I always say he was?

"You are not a shallow person, Maxwell," I growled. How could he really think that what I said to him in anger was what I think of him?

He looked at the floor for a minute in silence before he continued, "as I was saying, book covers don't often show what the stories are. I remember the first book I read other than the Bible, Father Maxwell used to read to us. The cover was beautiful. I think that is the nicest book I have ever seen. But the story… well…"

"What is it?" I asked curiously. Maxwell actually read things other than Deathscythe's data or his mission data.

"It is a tragedy. It …well… made me very sad at the ending," he said with a hint of embarrassment.

"Tragedy?" I asked. What sort of books would Maxwell classified as tragedy when he is a terrorist?

"Yeah, Wuman! I thought there was nothing wrong with your hearing?" Maxwell joked.

"Maxwell! How many times have I needed to tell you my name is Wufei!" I yelled, exasperated. What was wrong with my name that he could not call it properly?

"Well, I don't know. Maybe when you are already used to it?" Maxwell laughed as he dodged the cushion I threw his way.

However, I could not help thinking that Maxwell's movements were a bit slower than usual. He was the fastest among the rest of us. He said he was trained to be fast for all his life. It was strange but we had a mutual agreement not to pry into others' pasts.

"Hey, I think I need some beauty sleep already, Mr I-love-books," Maxwell joked as he turned to leave the room.

However, it was too late. I had already spotted the wet strains on his right sleeve. Somehow, I did not think that they were just water.

"Wait, Maxwell!" I yelled at him as he tried to walk to his room quickly. Well, he was limping. Guess he had tried to hide that from me when he first entered the room.

"Ben dan! Stop moving, you idiot!" I snapped as he just continued on. He was already swaying.

"I am fine, Wuman!" he said as he gave me a weak smile.

"You are an idiot, Maxwell!" I yelled at him angrily as I caught him in my arms before his face hit the ground.

"Sorry, Fei. Guess my cover's blown?" he grinned painfully as his eyes closed.

"Idiot," I scolded him as I carried him to his room.

I lay him on his bed as I bandaged his right arm and left thigh. That idiot! He was shot in his right arm and left thigh. He had bandaged his injuries roughly with the little supplies he kept in Deathscythe before returning to the safehouse.

The bullets were out. He was lucky that they were clean shots. However, I had no doubt that he would dig them out himself if they were not. Sometimes, he could scare me as much as Yuy who could set his own leg without flinching.

"Stupid," I scolded him again as I pulled the blanket over his frail body. Maxwell was not as cheerful as what he often appear to be. He had his own share of problems as well as his determination to end the war.

However, I often forgot about this side of him. He hid too well. I looked at his pale face. How many times had I misread his emotions? His book cover was what he hated so much. His cover was so different from what his life story.

He might hate books. But his life was already so alike to one of the books he hated so much. I smiled sadly at that fact. Should I be amused of this fact or should I be sad about it? I did not have the answer. All I know was that fate was not kind to any of us. Reality was harsh. We had all learnt that since young.

"Fei? I'm sorry," he apologized sleepily as he struggled to keep his eyes open, "I interrupted your reading."

"Idiot. You should have told me you are injured," I scolded him gently, knowing that he was too drowsy to remember the conversation tomorrow.

"I am sorry," he repeated with his eyes half-closed.

"Maxwell, you don't need to hide everything behind a beautiful cover, okay?" I told him. I knew I had to tell him that. I was afraid that someday, he might hide his injuries till it was too late.

"I know. Just an instinct I have since I was five," he mumbled almost incoherently.

I smiled at him. He looked like a child when he was like that. There was no trace of the God of Death who had so much blood on his hands. He looked so innocent. But I knew better. No one could be innocent if they were terrorists. Even Quatre who looked like an angel had his fair share of blood. Sometimes, I lamented at the fact that why it would have to be us. But as Maxwell had said before, better us than someone else.

"Sleep, Maxwell," I said soothingly before I remembered something, "oh yeah, Maxwell, what was the book that had a beautiful cover but made you cry?"

"Romeo and Juliet," he replied softly before he finally succumbed to his need to sleep.

Romeo and Juliet? Who would have thought Maxwell would cry over such a story? I snickered as I settled down on the chair besides his bed. Well, someone had to make sure that he was well at night.

Soon, darkness closed in on me.

Sunlight streamed through the curtains as I opened my eyes. I was disoriented for a minute, trying to remember where I was.

Maxwell. He was injured. I rubbed my eyes as I looked at the bed. I was expecting to find him still asleep.

However, once again he surprised me. He was gone. The bed was made and I could hear some noises in the kitchen. He must have got out of the bed when I was asleep. It was then I noticed the blanket around my shoulders. Well, he was even able to put a blanket on me without waking me up. He must have felt better. Then again, it was Maxwell I was thinking about.

I signed inwardly. Was I able to keep him out of trouble without affecting his healing? At least was I able to keep him in bed till one of the others came and helped me with him. Life would be interesting for the next few days at least.

Just as I was thinking about my fate for the next few days, something on the bedside table caught my attention. It seemed that Maxwell had put it there for me to see. I was surprised as well as impressed after I read the poem. It seemed that Maxwell could be quite poetic when he wanted to be. However, I had really got to get him back in bed where he was supposed to be.

"_Behind the cover by DM _

Beautiful cover on the front,  
Full of happiness thought to be.  
Buried deep inside the book itself,  
Sorrows and woes to be unmasked.

Happy it might seem  
Sad it is feeling now  
A cheerful life thought to be  
A breaking heart lies beneath

Putting on a blissful mask  
Trying to spread joy around  
Beneath the mask that is  
Hiding tears shedding down  
Hope binding the breaking heart  
But for how long will it last?

Brighten the pages with your touch  
Insert your love and care  
A true friend you would then have found  
Treasure the friendship forever you must."

I read it once more before I put it back on the table. Then I turned and went to find the poet who wrote this poem. Somehow, I think this was his show of trust for allowing me to glimpse the other side of him without me laughing at him.

"Maxwell! Get back to bed!" I yelled as I stomped towards the kitchen.

"Hey, Wuman! You are awake! Want some sandwiches?" Maxwell grinned at me.

"You are going to bed! You are injured!"

"But Wufflers, I will be bored and I'm fine now. It takes more than bullets to kill the great Shinigami!"

"No Maxwell, I don't care if you are bored or not. You need to rest for your wounds to heal. You are going to bed!"

"But Fei…"

"no buts! I am not going to risk Winner's wrath because you are bored!"

"Please Fei…"

"Maxwell! You are a gundam pilot! It is not honorable to use puppy eyes!"

"Please I don't want the bed, Fei…"

"…maybe the couch, Maxwell. Watch the television." "Thanks, Wufflers! You are the best!"

"Don't hug me, Maxwell! Go away!"

"I know you love me, Fei!"

Well, I knew it was going to be a long long day…

the end

How is it? Boring? I hope not. I just thought that I should get it out of my mind. The poem "behind the cover" was something I have written when I was 14 I think. So I just have to fit it in. so it is actually by me not Duo. But I will love to share it with Duo.

Well, give me reviews ok? Thanks a lot: )

By the way, peace knights will be continued I promise! I am just working at 2 fics currently.


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